Handprint On My Heart
by Vida33
Summary: "Rachel's sick, Jesse." With those three words, his entire life changes.
1. Chapter 1

A quick note: I have never, thank GOD, had someone close to me go through a situation like this. The majority of my knowledge (and I use that term extremely loosely) of the subject matter comes from Lurlene McDaniel novels and Lifetime movies. Dramatic license aside, if you note something that you think is TOTALLY inaccurate, please point it out to me so I can correct going forward, because I do want to try to be respectful of this subject matter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Jesse (sadly), Rachel, or anything else from the Gleek-verse. I also don't own any of the songs quoted in the text.

**Handprint On My Heart**

Chapter 1: People Will Say

July 2011

Nationals had been a debacle. There was really no other way to put it. First Frankenteen had inexplicably had the nerve to go for a kiss onstage – although then again, Jesse supposed, he shouldn't be surprised by any stunt the Incredible Hulk pulled. Rachel's eyes had widened, and she'd artfully dodged the gesture before he had leaned in too far. It was still enough to raise a titter from the audience, which wasn't completely swallowed by the New Directions' second, more upbeat number.

He'd found her berating Hudson backstage, and she was brought up short when she saw him, believing him to still be in Ohio. He listened – attempting to keep the smirk off his face – as he told Hudson that she'd meant it when she told him before the performance that she wasn't interested, that they were just too different, that she had dreams that were bigger than him, and that his utter disregard for their performance was the final straw. Sensing victory in this whole love triangle they'd been playing out for so long, Jesse finally did allow himself to smirk at Hudson as she flounced away from him, following her through the backstage pathways into a quiet corner of the theater lobby.

He was honestly shocked when she turned to him with real sadness in her eyes and told him she couldn't be with him, either. "We're a perfect match, Jesse," she'd told him, hastily adding before he could interrupt. "Maybe too perfect. Being here, in New York, makes me realize … this is the most important time of my life. And if I'm with you, how am I supposed to grow into the person I need to be? I'm not saying never … but I'm saying I need some time on my own to do what I need to do first."

They'd parted amicably enough. He hadn't seen her since the day they flew back into the Lima airport, when she offered him a hesitant smile as she climbed into her dads' car.

In great, theatric love stories, the principals parted for a time to lick their wounds after a major confrontation, then eventually reunited - preferably in song. He's spent two months teaching voice and dance lessons freelance – now these are some true rejects - and raiding his parents' liquor cabinet. At least that helps calm some of the ringing in his ears. He doesn't think he'll ever get over the case of the shakes Sugar Motta gave him.

The plan has always been to give her her time and her space, then waltz back into her life. An invitation to dinner, a dose of the famous St. James charm, and a few impassioned serenades later, and she'll fall back into his arms. She'll see that she doesn't have to choose between the stage and love - because he's right here, ready to give her all of it.

When her cell phone goes unanswered for a few days, and when no cars are in the Berrys' driveway each time he passes by, he's not too worried. The moment will come. Besides, her car isn't in Hudson's driveway - not that he checks.

He's not worried until the Friday evening when he's sprawled on his childhood bed and, a few swallows into his second glass of scotch, finds himself missing her voice.

She hasn't posted a MySpace video in fifteen days.

Something's not right.

He immediately dials Kurt Hummel.

* * *

><p>He's sobered up the next day by the time he walks through the doors at Lima General. However, as he pushes the elevator button for the fifth floor, one glance at the panel has him wishing for a drink. A really stiff one.<p>

_"Rachel's sick, Jesse."_

Kurt had stubbornly refused to give him any further details, demurring that it wasn't his place, and anyway, he didn't quite feel like bringing Rachel's wrath down on top of him. However, allowing that she was supremely stubborn – and Jesse was quite likely to learn nothing without Kurt's help – he'd acquiesced to provide a location, so Jesse could seek out the information on his own.

Being disarmingly charming usually gets him the information he needs, and with some directions from the receptionist at the front desk, he's quickly on his way to Rachel Berry's room. He feels his heart lurch in his chest when he pushes the button for the fifth floor and notes the panel.

Fifth floor - Hematology. Oncology.

He might have failed out of UCLA because he'd never taken a science class in his life, but even he knows what that word means.

There are strangers in the elevator, forcing him to keep his showface on. This is nothing, right? Surely Rachel is here for something relatively minor. _That_ department clearly shares a physical location with it, and nothing more.

He has to force himself not to run down the hall to room 503. He stops at the open door, wholly unsure of what he's going to find. Rachel is sitting up in bed in a shapeless hospital gown, reading. A quick glance doesn't show much outwardly wrong. She's a little pale, maybe, but looks comfortable for the moment. Now his anger - she couldn't even call and warn him, God - bubbles up a little.

"No piano. Can't quite make the entrance I'm used to with you," he drawls, stepping in.

Her head snaps up and she drops the book. "Jesse?"

"Rachel Barbra Berry." He pulls the door closed behind him. "What on earth possessed you not to tell me about this?"

"How did you find me?" she breathes, looking totally aghast.

"I asked you a question first." Because he has no intention of going anywhere anytime soon, he drags a chair over, sits by the bed.

"Kurt," she grinds out. "I'm going to kill him." She pauses, then asks, "Did he tell you?"

"No."

He doesn't expand, just watching her. She looks around the room as though she's going to find a way out of the line of questioning, even paler than she was before. Finally, she sighs. "Sit down," she tells him.

"I'm already sitting," he snaps.

She blinks. "Oh. I guess you are. It just seemed like the thing to say - on stage or something."

Because he's just as dramatic as she is, he quietly sits and waits for the answer, unwilling to banter off her and let her delay the truth. He vows to keep his showface firmly in place through whatever comes out of her mouth.

"I have cancer, Jesse."

He lied. There's no way he can keep a showface in place through that.

While he's trying to breathe through the kick that seems to have just been delivered to his stomach, he focuses in on her face. He realizes she's watching him anxiously. She isn't used to this. She hasn't told people this.

"Tell me everything," he requests.

"From the beginning?" she asks softly. He nods and she sighs. "Leading up to Regionals last year, I threw myself into rehearsal after ... well, after." He winces. "I started to feel run down. I'd wake up at night in a cold sweat feeling feverish, or get tired easily during rehearsal. I figured I was coming down with a bad flu, but I couldn't risk missing rehearsal time or the competition. So I took a lot of over-the-counter medicine, drank a lot of herbal tea, and pushed through the best I could. After Regionals, my dads finally made me go see a doctor. They put me on antibiotics for the flu symptoms, but I didn't respond, so they did some bloodwork. It showed I had an elevated white cell count, which led them to run a battery of tests - and that's when they diagnosed me. Technically, the name for what I have is Hodgkin's Lymphoma. It's very rare. I always have to be one of a kind," she jokes weakly.

He doesn't think it's particularly funny.

"It's basically a cancer of the immune system. And I had a mass in my abdomen, which I had surgery to remove. They treated me with radiation therapy to try to kill anything left in that area and to stop the disease's growth. The mass didn't re-emerge and my bloodwork looked clean in the fall. So I got to go back to school."

"Did anyone know?"

"Just Kurt - and later, Blaine. But no one else - not even Mr. Schue. I'm Rachel Berry. They all think I'm enough of a freak already - I just couldn't be 'the freak girl with cancer' on top of it. For most of the year, I felt fine, anyway. But leading up to Nationals, I started feeling like something wasn't right again."

"And you didn't say anything then?" he demands.

"It was _New York_, Jesse," she exclaims, as though that should explain everything. And in a way, it does. "So - my most recent bloodwork shows trouble again. So this time, it's chemotherapy." She visibly winces.

She's thorough in her explanation - she always is. He has only one question left, for now.

"Is this why you sent me away after Nationals?" he asks softly.

She shrugs helplessly, averting her eyes. "I knew what I'd have to go through again," she says. "I didn't want you to see me like this. I thought if I got rid of you for the summer, I'd be feeling well again by fall - just like last time."

He's still reeling from her news and - though he feels ashamed by it - there's part of him that's still so, so angry. But there's something in her expression that tugs at his heart. Under her defiance, there's vulnerability. The fear that if she'd shown him any imperfection, he'd abandon her. There's something else, too - the fact that she'd hoped to cure herself over the summer, with him out of the way, then be well again by fall. She's always meant to contact him again. Just not like this.

Well, Rachel Berry is just going to have to learn to adjust. He reaches out to cover her hand with his.

There's so much he wants to say to her.

"Silly girl," is what he says. "How could you not know that I would want to be with you through this?"

* * *

><p>He spends another sleepless night on his bed, thinking about Rachel Berry while drinking himself senseless. He knows his father is leaving on another business trip in the morning - he can hear him rustling back and forth outside, muttering about his son - who failed at college, mind you - sitting around using up his good scotch and singing showtunes instead of making something of himself.<p>

It's for this precise reason that he tries to spend as little time here as possible. He'd planned to lie low for the summer, cobble together what money he could, then make a break back to New York - after winning Rachel back, of course, knowing she'd be joining him in less than a year. He has a trust fund, of course, and his parents certainly aren't lacking for wealth. But considering exactly what his parents think of his chosen career, he finds doing it this way far more satisfying.

He's certainly not heading to New York now, though. His dreams are going to have to be put on hold - because he's not leaving her side. Almost as an afterthought, he realizes he can't allow _her_ to put her own dreams on hold.

* * *

><p>The next day, Jesse rides the elevator back up to the fifth floor, the strangers curiously eyeing the box he's bringing. He gets a little impatient when the nurses at the desk upstairs stop him, making him pull everything out to wipe it down with an antibacterial wipe, then scrub his own hands before he goes any further on the floor. Rachel is not in the isolation wing of the oncology center, reserved for the highest-risk patients. But they're still not taking any chances.<p>

One of her dads, Leroy, is in the chair by the bed. She's obviously told her dads about his visit the day before. Leroy doesn't look surprised to see him; he nods politely, but not warmly. "Jesse."

For her part, Rachel is smiling a little shyly. "You came back."

He smiles, a little awkwardly, hating the feeling. He's not used to being in the same room as her and not touching her, but he doesn't want to do anything her dad might consider untoward. "I told you I would."

Leroy glances back and forth between them, then excuses himself, kissing Rachel's cheek. After a pause, Jesse takes a seat in the vacated chair.

He suddenly remembers the box he's holding. He sets it down, pulls out the battery-operated CD player. Then he spills the CDs and sheet music into a pile on the bed. Rachel literally claps her hands in delight.

"What are we listening to?" she asks.

He smiles. "You're going to sing."

"What?"

He rifles through the stack of CDs before pulling one out and holding it up. "_Oklahoma_. Laurey's one of your dream roles, right? Didn't you say it helps you when you're stressed?"

"Jesse. We're in a hospital." She seems to feel the need to point out the obvious.

He smirks at her. "Lucky for everyone else. Aren't they getting a treat?"

She sighs and flops back against the pillows. "You and your impromptu concerts, St. James."

"It's important for you to keep your voice in use," he insists. "You're not giving up on everything that makes you you just because you got sick. You're still Rachel Berry, female lead of nationals contender - although I use that word loosely - New Directions and a future Broadway star. You're still the girl I fell in love with belting out Don't Rain on My Parade."

While he's been arguing her into submission, he's pulled the CD out of its case and turned the player on. She's eyeing the sheet music with something like lust and he grins triumphantly, knowing he's made the right choice.

She takes a deep breath and is a little hesitant to start, but loosens up as she goes along.

**Why do they think up stories that link my name with yours?**

**Why do the neighbors chatter all day behind their doors?**

**I know a way to prove what they say is quite untrue:**

**Here is the gist, a practical list of "don'ts" for you.**

**Don't throw bouquets at me,**

**Don't please my folks too much,**

**Don't laugh at my jokes too much,**

**People will say we're in love!**

**Don't sigh and gaze at me,**

**Your sighs are so like mine,**

**Your eyes mustn't glow like mine,**

**People will say we're in love!**

**Don't start collecting things,**

**Give me my rose and my glove.**

**Sweetheart, they're suspecting things -**

**People will say we're in love! **

She winks at him playfully and he laughs, perching himself on the side of the bed as she allows him to sing the next part.

_Some people claim that you're to blame as much as I, _

_Why do you take the trouble to bake my favorite pie? _

_Granting your wish, I carved our initials on that tree!_

_Just keep a slice of all the advice you give so free. _

_Don't praise my charm too much,_

_Don't look so vain with me,_

_Don't stand in the rain with me,_

_People will say we're in love!_

_Don't take my arm too much,_

_Don't keep your hand in mine -_

_Your hand feels so grand in mine,_

_People will say we're in love!_

He takes her hand as they finish it out together, her giving a little flourish of protest with her other hand.

**_Don't dance all night with me_**

**_Till the stars fade from above._**

**_They'll see it's alright with me - _**

**_People will say we're in love._**

He can hear loud grumbling from across the hall at their impromptu duet, so he gets up and shuts the door before he returns to find the sheet music for the next song, knowing that this certainly won't be the last number of the day. Closing the door is probably also a good idea because he certainly won't be able to keep from kissing her if she sings any more.

It's a good thing Rachel doesn't have a roommate.

* * *

><p>It turns out that the staff of the oncology wing at Lima General is none too pleased when you attempt to practice Laurey and Curley's dream ballet with one of their patients.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to everyone who reviewed Chapter 1 :) Greatly appreciated!

**Handprint On My Heart **

Chapter 2: Beautiful

July-August 2011

She's supposed to start her treatment that Monday. Predictably, she tries to convince him that he doesn't have to be there. Just as predictably, he ignores her and shows up anyway. He's there so early that he actually runs into the Berry men in the lobby on their way in, and the elevator ride might be a lot more awkward if they weren't all so nervous. Rachel's engaged in a bubbly conversation with the nurse who is already adjusting her IV drip as they walk in.

"Sarah, you remember my dads, Hiram and Leroy," Rachel says by way of greeting. Both men shake Sarah's hand before Rachel gestures to him. "And this is my ..." She trails off, and it dawns on him that he's shown up, they've sung together, kissed, but never exactly defined what they are. He's about to do the gallant thing and say he's a friend when she finishes "...my Jesse," with a little blush. He's surprised how nice that sounds and smiles when he shakes the nurse's hand. Sarah warns them all that this first day likely won't be pretty and steps out to check on another patient, with a promise to stop in frequently to follow up.

The effects are quick, as Rachel is almost instantaneously nauseous. He refuses to leave the room like he knows she wants, so when the sickness overwhelms her he turns his head or busies himself getting her water - a compromise, trying not to make her more embarrassed than she already is. Secretly, he hopes her dads won't think he's some kind of pansy.

Sarah, true to her promise, is back several times, and Dr. Maxwell, whom he surmises is in charge, sails in and out a few times.

"Patients react to this differently," Dr. Maxwell says as he's examining a blood pressure cuff Sarah has just applied to Rachel's arm. "It may take a few days to get the exact mix of medications right. The important thing is for her to keep eating and drinking so she doesn't deplete her body."

Jesse thinks it's stupid advice, since she clearly can't keep anything down. He's never felt so damn helpless in his life.

* * *

><p>She manages to keep him back at arm's length for the first day of her treatment and most of the second. By midafternoon on day two, when she hasn't thrown up for two hours at a stretch, she forces her dads out to get something to eat. The two older men were here late the night before and are starting to look a little haggard. They haven't had much of anything yet today besides the coffee Jesse has been ferrying back and forth - the smell of anything else makes Rachel lose it.<p>

Jesse promises he'll stay with her and that he'll have the nurse page them if anything goes wrong in the 30 minutes they're gone. Hiram smiles gratefully. Leroy's shooting him a pointed look as they head through the door - what, does he think he's going to deflower his daughter in the oncology wing?

"They're just suspicious by nature because you're a college boy now," Rachel says conversationally, settling herself back against the pillows behind her. "They liked you better than my other boyfriends, you know."

He smirks a little - like he needed confirmation that he's superior to Hudson and Puckerman. "What's not to like?"

She laughs a little. "That's why they were so surprised when we abruptly broke up sophomore year."

"You never told them..."

She shakes her head. "No."

Before he can respond, she bolts upright, turning a distinctive shade of green. She grabs for the empty basin at the foot of the bed, but he's faster. He levers himself onto the edge of the bed next to her, holding the basin under her chin and wrapping his free arm around her as her body heaves.

"Go away," she moans, trying to clutch at the basin herself.

He stays where he is and doesn't even attempt to argue, making soothing noises against her ear and rubbing her back in slow circles until her body stops convulsing. Trying not to look into it - he is only human, after all - he reaches to set the basin on the table beside the bed. He grabs the glass of water and holds the straw to her lips when she's done wiping her mouth with a tissue. She's sweaty and shaking and trying to catch her breath.

"I didn't want you to see me like this," she mutters, closing her eyes.

He tries to think of a song to distract her - because that's always worked in the past and this is still Rachel, right? The only thing he can think of at the moment is a trite little song he knows exactly one verse of. So he hums it quietly in her ear while she catches her breath.

_You are so beautiful to me,_

_You are so beautiful to me - Can't you see?_

_You're everything I hoped for,_

_You're everything I need._

_You are so beautiful to me._

He kisses her forehead, her flushed cheeks, as she rests her head on his shoulder. Together, they wait for whatever comes next.

* * *

><p>They fall into a routine.<p>

Jesse and Hiram are always at the hospital earliest in the morning. Hiram, a philosophy professor at OSU-Lima, is teaching just one evening class this summer session, leaving his days free. Leroy, a lawyer, tries to juggle his caseload to join them by early afternoon.

Together, they sit with Rachel during her treatment, doing her best to keep her mind off the chemo coursing through her veins. Hiram will occasionally bring along papers to grade and tell Rachel about some deep debate his class had the night before - which she is all too eager to add her two cents to.

At Rachel's insistence, Jesse drags himself away from the hospital a few times a week to continue to teach voice lessons. He cracks Rachel up with his impersonations of various students. For his part, he's barely spending any time at home - arriving back late, after visiting hours are done, and touching down for a few hours to sleep. He doesn't know if his mother has noticed, and he can't say he particularly cares.

Rachel's treatments are done by early afternoon, and she's usually exhausted enough to nap for a few hours. By the time she wakes up, she has some kind of appetite again. They call for takeout, and Kurt picks it up on his way over; he's doing a theater program with Blaine this summer. After dinner, Hiram and Leroy usually kiss their daughter goodnight and head home, leaving the teens to spend the evening together - just like they might if this were a normal summer. Kurt entertains Rachel with rehearsal stories, shares his notes from workshops - "Thanks for helping me to keep my edge," she tells him - and brings scripts or sheet music he's smuggled out of the theater, so she has something new to study.

Many times, Blaine tags along with Kurt. Very occasionally, Finn stops in along with them, sheepishly bringing flowers or something his mom baked. Jesse clenches his jaw when Frankenteen walks through the door before reminding himself that Finn is Kurt's stepbrother, so therefore, this is totally plausible and he ought to chill the hell out. He can't stop himself from pointedly holding Rachel's hand, though. She senses what's going on and tolerates the whole territorial-male thing, even giving him a little sideways smile like she half-likes it. She pinches his wrist when it starts to lapse into verbal jabs, though.

Most of the time, though, it's just the two couples. When it's not raining, they go for walks around the hospital grounds. They put on movies, or play cards, or sing. There's a piano in the patient rec room that - if the layer of dust on the keys is any indicator - gets more use that summer than it has in a long time. Jesse decides he likes Blaine, who shares his penchant for impromptu concerts.

* * *

><p>After about three weeks, the doctors are happy with how Rachel has adjusted - she's still throwing up, but not constantly, and she has a lot more energy. So she's allowed to go through the final six weeks of her treatment as an outpatient. Hiram and Leroy drive her to the hospital in the morning. Jesse meets them there and is usually the one to drive her home in early afternoon. Usually, she falls asleep in his car, him being careful not to disturb her as he drives with her lead leaning on his shoulder.<p>

Shortly after coming home, she starts losing hair in clumps. She looks troubled, and sometimes stays locked in her bathroom for a short while after discovering it. But otherwise, she takes it in stride. So he does his best to follow her lead and do the same, even when he threads his fingers through her hair while they're watching a movie and comes away with several strands attached.

Kurt insists on being her personal stylist and, one Sunday, he and Rachel spend a few hours locked in her bedroom, refusing to let either of the boyfriends in. Her new cut is chin-length, with some auburn and golden highlights, making you think the strands missing here or there are really a trick of the light. She blushes shyly when Jesse tells her he loves it, looking like she doesn't believe him. He proves it to her by dipping her back dramatically - the diva in her loves it - and kissing her soundly in front of Kurt and Blaine.

* * *

><p>"Sing me to sleep?" she requests one August night.<p>

The best thing about her outpatient treatments, by far, is that there are no more 'visitor hours,' no more kissing her goodnight in a hurry while some nurse hovers at the door, annoyed because he's already there too late.

Right now, they're lying on her bed, bickering about Sondheim's best musical. Rachel's been yawning for the last ten minutes. He can't say he blames her. The first time he fell asleep here - it was totally innocent, he swears - he woke up thinking her dads would be standing over the bed waiting to castrate him. But apart from a truly awkward gathering over breakfast the next morning, it was never mentioned again.

"What do you want me to sing?"

He can feel her whole body shrug as she burrows into his shoulder. "I don't know. Surprise me."

He only has to think for a second. He's already got Sondheim on the brain, so really, it's perfect ... because there's something he's all but said to her. He props himself up on one elbow so he can look at her - and tries to keep his voice down, because he's pretty sure the rest of the house is asleep.

_Now that we're alone, may I tell you -_

_I've been feeling rather strange?_

_Either something's in the air, _

_Or else a change is happening in me._

_I think I know the cause -_

_I hope I know the cause._

_From everything I've heard,_

_There's only one cause it can be:_

She's figured out the song by now and opens her eyes to look at him. He smiles and leans in, lowering his voice conspiratorially (also because he really doesn't want to wake her dads up).

_Love, I hear, makes you smile a lot,_

_Also love, I hear, leaves you weak._

_Love, I hear, makes you blush and turns you ashen,_

_You try to speak with passion, and squeak ... I hear._

_Love, they say, makes you pine away -_

_But you pine away, with an idiotic grin._

_I pine, I blush, I squeak, I squawk,_

_Today I woke too weak to walk._

_What's love, I hear, I feel, I fear - I'm in._

_ I hum a lot too,_

_I'm dazed, I'm pale, I'm sick, I'm sore -_

_I've never felt so well before._

_What's love, I hear, I feel, I fear,_

_I know I am - I'm sure, I mean,_

_I hope, I trust, _

_I pray, I must be in._

_Forgive me if I shout, forgive me if I crow,_

_I've only just found out, and_

_Well - I thought you ought to know._

Rachel grabs him by the back of the neck when he's done, pulling him down for a kiss that makes him see stars.

"What took you so long?" she mumbles when he finally lets him come up for air, resuming her earlier position curled up against him.

"That's all you have to say about that performance? You are destroying my ego, woman," he complains quietly, even as he slips an arm around her to pull her closer.

He feels her smile against his shoulder. "I love you too, Jesse."


	3. Chapter 3

Once again, thanks to everyone who left such nice reviews on the most recent chapter :) This is my first attempt at fanfic, so I am so blown away that you like it so much! :) Again, very open to suggestions/constructive criticism if anyone thinks something is not factually plausible - I'm probably playing a little loose with things here. Also, I was working on a couple of things simultaneously this weekend - so the next chapter should be up very, very shortly :)

**Handprint On My Heart**

Chapter 3: Don't Cry For Me

September-December 2011

She gamely starts senior year, on time with the rest of her class.

She's still got close to a month left of chemo, but, in true Rachel Berry fashion, she refuses to miss the first day of school. So the hospital rearranges her schedule to allow her to come in for outpatient treatments in the afternoons. five days a week.

Her dads are hesitant about the whole thing. They've tried to keep things as normal as possible for her - but really don't want to see her forcing herself beyond her limits. They both seem to feel a lot better that Jesse will be around constantly to keep an eye on her. He's planning to resume his consultant role with New Directions in the fall. For once, Principal Figgins isn't threatening to disband the club - finishing 12th in the nation is actually nothing to sneeze at for a group that didn't even place at Regionals the year before - but he's dead serious about succeeding this time around and has basically foisted the four-time national champion on Schuester.

* * *

><p>She wears clothes that are layered to hide the catheter below her collarbone - which has remained there for the duration of her treatment so they don't have to stick her every time. Kurt helps, of course. She got lucky with her hair, particularly with Kurt's help - but there are still some sections that look distinctly patchy. She usually grabs a scarf, or one of those cute little newsboy hats, to complete the look. Most of the teachers don't allow headgear in class - but the final week of summer vacation, Hiram and Leroy went in for a meeting with Figgins to finally break the news, in case any special accommodations have to be made later, so word has spread to her teachers. They look the other way when Rachel sails through the door with a hat on. If her stomach rebels during class, she calmly gets up and edges her way to the door of the classroom, waiting til she's in the hallway with the door closed behind her before bolting.<p>

Although most of her teachers find out about the situation from Figgins, Rachel wants to tell Schuester herself. Jesse drives her to the school the week before classes begin, so she can go find her teacher while he's setting up the choir room. She wants to do this alone, so he waits in the car. She's gone a long time, and when she comes back, she's suspiciously quiet and won't let go of Jesse's hand.

After that comes telling the rest of the club, which she does at their first meeting of the school year. Kurt, Blaine and Finn already know, of course, and it's best the rest of them find out quickly, before they get it from the high school rumor mill.

The reactions pretty much run the gamut. Santana stops filing her nails and rattles off a strong of words he doesn't even begin to know how to translate. Mercedes stares, shocked into silence for once. Puckerman leaps out of his seat like he's going to hit something. Tina cries silently, leaning on Mike Chang's shoulder. Brittany asks innocent questions, which Rachel gently answers.

Schuester lets things go on until Rachel herself turns away from the inquisition and says it's definitely time to start rehearsing if they're going to win it all this year. Schuester starts handing out sheet music, and Jesse watches Rachel as she takes the seat in between Kurt and Finn. Her face looks like she feels free, for the first time in a long time.

* * *

><p>He can't sit through every one of her classes with her, of course. But if things start being too much for her - she stands up and sways, or some jock wants to pick fun at the hat - Finn, Puck, Sam and Mike are there, shooting down the offender or letting her lean on them while she walks to class. A few times, Artie even offers her a ride on his wheelchair - which is less awkward than it should be.<p>

He forges an uneasy true with Finn - knowing he can't be at Rachel's side every second of the school day and that the Incredible Hulk probably really does have her best interests at heart. Please, like Hudson could steal her off him anyway. He definitely relaxes a lot more, though, when he attends a McKinley football game - the glee club is performing at halftime - and can see that Finn and Quinn, who is back on the cheerleading squad yet again, are making eyes at each other on the sidelines again.

His respect for his onetime rival grows when he hears, from Kurt, how Azimio made a move to slushy Rachel - perhaps he didn't keep up with the rumor mill, but then again, tact has never been his strong suit. Finn had earned himself a trip to Figgins' office for twisting the boy's arm behind his back and telling him exactly what would happen if he attempted that again.

* * *

><p>After the fiasco that was last year - the change of tactics at sectionals, leading to the close tie with the Warblers, then the last-minute songwriting at nationals - Schuester is finally ceding that maybe Jesse knows what he's talking about when it comes to winning. For his part, he doesn't begrudge Schuester his weekly assignments. It passes for group therapy around here, and he doesn't want to rain on their parade - although he really, really can't help rolling his eyes when Hudson and Puckerman attempt some senioritis-inspired white-boy rap.<p>

He tries really hard to keep the worst of his comments to himself - there's nothing wrong with honesty, particularly when Sam insists on more Bieber, but he counts to three before offering his opinions, doing his best to keep the smirk off his face and the sarcasm out of his voice. Professionalism, right?

However, he does insist that Schuester needs to choose a set list early, and rehearse it more than once a week. He also points out the lackluster dance moves - he is not going to play the Vocal Adrenaline card, but New Directions really needs to step it up if they're going to compete. So dance "boot camp," spearheaded by Mike and Brittany, also becomes a part of the weekly routine.

* * *

><p>She throws herself into rehearsal with a vengeance. On top of all the extenuating circumstances - it's her senior year, and she's determined to go out with a bang.<p>

He knows that Schuester has pulled her aside more than once and reminded her that it's OK if she needs to sit out a number or miss a rehearsal. She always thanks him but declines.

Jesse's torn. He's under strict orders from her dads to try to keep an eye on her and make sure she's taking care of herself. On the other hand - they share the same dreams, and he knows exactly what this year means to her. He never goes easier on her than the others - the one time she caught him doing so, she rounded on him right in the middle of rehearsal. But he tries to look after her the best he can - quietly shifting so she can lean on him to catch her breath while she listens intently to Schuester's lecture after a number, or discreetly passing her a water bottle or energy bar when it starts to look like she needs it.

He tries to be a gentleman and keep his hands to himself. He's not technically a McKinley employee, but it's close, and Rachel is a student. Besides, they both understand professionalism. But he can't help tangling his fingers with hers when they're sitting side by side listening to someone else's song. And she'll pass him in the hall or in the library as she zips from place to place during the school day, smiling and giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

He catches Schuester looking him up and down a few times, no doubt considering a lecture on inappropriateness, but Jesse's a force of nature all on his own and he can't quite bring himself to have that battle.

* * *

><p>Just like in the summer, it's common for Jesse to wind up at the Berry house in the evenings. Her dads have gotten used to having him around, and sometimes he finds himself loading the dishwasher with them while debating the relative merits of Michael Mayer as a director when Rachel heads upstairs to start her homework after dinner, or just engaging in idle chitchat while she runs off to take a phone call from Kurt.<p>

He's hesitant to ask them questions about Rachel's illness - the treatments, the prognosis, what to expect. But - although she'll answer - he knows he can't bring himself to look in her eyes and ask her these questions.

A bone marrow transplant is one of the more drastic courses of treatment - the pre-transplant regimen alone is actually dangerous, in a lot of cases - but one Dr. Maxwell would like to try eventually, provided they can find her a matching donor. Apparently Rachel has a rare blood type - once again, Jesse thinks, humorlessly, leave it to her to be one of a kind.

Neither Hiram nor Leroy is a match. Jesse books an appointment. After some deliberation - and after getting Hiram's blessing - he calls Shelby, who is now living in Pittsburgh with the 18-month-old she adopted from Quinn and Puck. His old choir director drives to Ohio the next day, and they sit silently in the waiting room at the hospital. Jesse goes first.

Rachel has no idea until the next Saturday evening, when they're in his backseat innocently making out after catching a movie with Kurt and Blaine, just like a couple of normal, stupid teens. Her hand runs across his hip a little more firmly than expected and he winces. She feels the awkward motion and opens her eyes, glancing down in puzzlement where his jeans have ridden down, exposing the angry bruise (he swears the needle was a foot long). Her eyes go back and forth from the mark to his face a few times before she figures it out.

"Jesse..." she whispers reverently, reaching out to touch his face.

"I wasn't a match," he says unnecessarily.

She hugs him tight, whispering how much she loves him, how grateful she is. He wraps his arms around her, wishing he could shield her from whatever else the world has coming.

* * *

><p>He can see that it's starting to be too much for her in early November.<p>

In addition to glee rehearsal and homework, she and Kurt are holding their own private rehearsals virtually every spare moment, putting together audition tapes to send off to performing arts schools in New York. She spends hours polishing every comma in her C.V., and Jesse has read quite a few drafts of her personal statements and admissions essays.

The schedule she's keeping as sectionals approaches would be taxing even for a healthy person. Her treatments were done over a month ago, but he can see she still hasn't gained back most of the weight she lost during chemo. He's pretty sure not getting enough sleep; she seems tired and distracted sometimes.

They fight about it more than once - when he suggests she should go to bed instead of running through her solo for sectionals one more time, or says she ought to tell her dads how she's feeling. She's violently opposed to that suggestion. After sectionals, she promises. She swears. But she needs no distractions right now - not with this so close.

* * *

><p>The morning of Sectionals, which is the second Saturday in December, she's quiet and nervous on the team bus, and he finds it terribly endearing. They both have resolved not to engage in any untoward behavior anywhere inside the theater. But when he finds her pacing outside the green room, he pulls her out the back door and kisses her soundly, wishing her a very private good luck. Half an hour later, he smiles in anticipation from his seat in the audience as the house lights go down and the curtain comes up.<p>

When they were picking the set list, Schuester wanted to focus more on group numbers, spreading the solos out to showcase various talents. Jesse was quite adamant that New Directions' strongest performer should also have a featured number. Schuester accuses him of some bias, as said star performer is also his girlfriend. But Jesse knows they'll have this in the bag as soon as Rachel opens her mouth to sing.

_It won't be easy, you'll think it strange_

_When I try to explain how I feel -_

_That I still need your love after all that I've done ..._

It takes him back - to when he was just some cocky kid sitting in this audience smirking, thinking nothing in the world could touch him, and he was blown away by some beautiful little girl in a black dress with a voice far too big for her body.

Her rendition of 'Don't Cry For Me Argentina' brings the house down. It's perfect placement in the program - the judges are suitably blown away by this phenomenal talent, and will remember this no matter what happens during New Directions' second number. As the crowd rises to its feet in applause, he feels a little tingle down his spine. He knows there's no way Rachel can find him in the audience, but he wonders - as she stands on the stage beaming like there's no tomorrow - if she remembers what he said to her when he found her practicing alone in a dance studio so long ago.

She proudly presents the rest of her team and skips back into line. A brief solo from Rachel quickly segues into a rollicking rendition of 'You Can't Stop The Beat' - nicely arranged by Schuester, it showcases Mike and Brittany's dancing up front, backed by solos from several different members of the team. It's a number that's come a long way from when the team sang it just for kicks during an inane assignment earlier this year.

He's not surprised at all when the results are announced and McKinley has moved on to Regionals. New Directions (Rachel) was flawless today. It's her third Sectionals win - if you count the tie - in three years with this team; twice as featured soloist. That will help lock up a spot in virtually any performing arts school she wants to go to.

He's in the lobby talking with Schuester and her dads when she emerges from backstage, having changed out of her costume. She lets her dads hug her first, then leans against Jesse. He can feel the exhaustion in every line of her body. He doesn't think her dads notice, and keeps his mouth shut when she shakes her head almost imperceptibly.

She falls asleep in the middle of the celebration on the bus on the way home, her head lolling onto Blaine's shoulder.

Watching her from his seat next to Schuester, Jesse can't help feeling like everything is about to change.


	4. Chapter 4

**Handprint On My Heart**

Chapter 4: No One Is Alone

December 2011-March 2012

She'd already been scheduled for a follow-up visit with the specialist a week after sectionals. That saves them both a lot of time. Otherwise, he suspects she would have tried to wiggle out of going - despite all assurances to the contrary be damned - and he damn well would have dragged her in under protest.

One step forward, two steps back. The routine bloodwork shows some abnormal cells floating around in her system. She's in molecular relapse, and clinical symptoms can't be far behind. Maybe it will happen next week. Maybe not for a year. But it's inevitable.

He catches Leroy throwing Rachel sideways glances during the meeting in Dr. Maxwell's office. In any other situation, it would be amusing to watch her peppering the man with questions. Maxwell explains the dilemma they now face. Do they make her life miserable to fix something that essentially isn't broken yet, or do they wait for her to start showing symptoms? They eventually decide to put her on a course of oral pills - the drugs head for the defecting cells and hopefully stop them in their tracks. It's a stop-gap measure, but it buys some time to build up her defenses before they have to rush her into a more aggressive treatment.

It also gives her the holidays at home, which she desperately wants. Jesse freely admits he doesn't know a damn thing about Hanukkah. He catches Rachel watching with a soft smile while Hiram is attempting to explain the various intricacies. It does something funny to his insides when she looks at them like that - like she's trying to sketch the picture in her mind to hold on to.

It turns out that another Berry family tradition is to go walking around the neighborhood to look at all the lights. It's not a ritual she's about to give up, despite how overprotective the three men in her life are being these days. They insist on her bundling up in extra clothes - Jesse laughs when she gets tangled up in a scarf, suddenly picturing a 5-year-old Rachel in the same situation.

Hiram and Leroy look just about as wrapped up in each other as the younger couple. Holding hands, they wander on ahead a few yards, giving Jesse ample time to study her. Tonight, she really looks like an ingenue - a fuzzy blue cap pulled down low over her ears, cheeks flushed with color, the frosty cloud her breath makes in the air, the way her eyes sparkle in all the lights. He winds up stealing kisses whenever he can, and she giggles when her dads look back at them.

"I always wondered what it felt like," she muses later as they sit on her front steps looking up at the stars - not quite ready to head back into the warmth of the house yet.

"What?"

"What my dads have. Having someone there with you." She looks up at him. "Loving someone that much."

"You're lucky," he tells her. "I don't remember ever seeing my own parents act like that."

"I am lucky," she agrees, tucking herself closer to his side. At that moment, he feels pretty lucky, too.

The holidays have always left him feeling a little out of sorts. For one thing, his family wasn't overly close. For another, he's never been the type to particularly believe in any particular deity, which seems to be what's wrapped up in this whole season. But right here, right now, sitting with her - it makes him believe, or at least hope, that there is a higher power.

He's never been one for traditions before. But all he knows is he wants this, with her, every year. And if there's even a possibility that there's someone up there who can help - he's willing to suspend his disbelief to pray for that.

* * *

><p>Right after the holidays is when it all goes to hell. She insists on going caroling with Kurt and Mercedes - then wakes up four days later feverish and fighting for breath. The ER calls it stress-induced pneumonia - but because of her history, she gets the full battery of tests. And that's when the CT scan shows the maverick cells - the small growth in her abdomen, near the area where one was removed a year and a half ago; and, more frightening, another in her chest, very near the bottom of her lung. So this time, it's going to be a round of radiation - in hopes of shrinking or even eliminating the masses in order to spare her from more surgery.<p>

Rachel is in another room talking to the counselor the hospital makes all the teen patients see while Dr. Maxwell pulls Hiram, Leroy and Jesse into his office to see if they have any questions. Leroy is swearing a blue streak, and Jesse is right there with him. It's Hiram who is trying to settle his partner and the younger man, as well as quietly asking the important questions.

The fact that they just can't seem to kick this, that it's constantly one step forward and two steps back, means her odds are about 50-50, Maxwell tells them. And they still haven't found a matched donor. Jesse tries his hardest to push all talk of odds out of his mind. But he does refuse to let go of her hand when she comes back from the counselor's office.

* * *

><p>This time, the treatment leaves her extremely fatigued, with no appetite and a dry mouth. Worse, because of the location of the growth in her chest, her breathing is sorely affected, and she develops a dry cough. Walking up a flight of stairs seems to steal her breath - let alone running through a dance sequence or holding a glory note.<p>

It's possible things could improve slightly as her body adjusts over the 10 weeks of treatment. But right now, it looks next to impossible that she'll be capable of carrying the team at regionals the first week of March. She executes more than one picture-perfect stormout while Dr. Maxwell is attempting to discuss her physical limitations with her - the nurses stop even looking up when the door slams after the first few. Other than that, she takes it gracefully enough.

She's determined to still lead the team in her own way, though. Schuester appoints her student co-director of New Directions. Her extensive CD collection gets a serious workout and sheet music is everywhere as she spends hours poring over options for the setlist. She offers Finn the opportunity, as co-captain, to contribute, but he really doesn't care, as long as he isn't singing any particularly girlish songs. He's landed himself a partial scholarship to Gannon University, in Pennsylvania - he really, really wanted to leave the state - and senioritis seems to be setting in. Either that, or he's just bright enough to stay out of Rachel's line of fire. The college acceptances are slowly starting to trickle in. Kurt's disappointment at being rejected by Parsons is tempered when acceptance letters from FIT, NYU and the School of Design all arrive the next day. Blaine does appear headed for NYU. Quinn got into Carnegie Mellon - Finn's truck is going to need some work if it's going to survive the two-hour trip on a regular basis - while Santana and Brittany are heading to Miami. Rachel smiles and congratulates her classmates every time someone runs into the choir room with good news, remaining mum on the status of her own applications.

Santana has taken over most of the lead female vocals for New Directions. She has a versatile voice that works effectively with both Mercedes' soulful take on classics and Brittany's surprisingly endearing style. Rachel practically sits on her hands in class to keep from volunteering every answer, saving all her energy for rehearsal. Her voice is still capable of carrying quite well when she wants it to, much to her teammates' chagrin as she barks out directions. Jesse, glancing up from scribbling his own notes, can never stop himself from noticing how much like Shelby she looks sitting there. And thinking of how unlike they really are.

Shelby really hasn't been around. After Rachel had learned the whole story about the bone marrow testing, she had called Shelby to thank her personally, and the pair had a strange and stilted lunch meeting. Shelby had made a few awkward overtures after that, but it was very obvious that she still wasn't quite sure how to deal with a teenager, that she was hesitant. Rachel lets her know that she appreciates the thoughts, and thank you very much, but she doesn't want to have some guilt trip relationship just because she could be dying. Shelby calls, or sends a note, every few weeks; Rachel responds in kind but doesn't attempt to take things farther. She's long since made her peace with it, she says - she has her dads, and she has him, and really, that's all the family she needs.

On the days when she isn't feeling well enough to attend rehearsal, she insists that Jesse videotape it for her so she can offer a written critique. Schuester looks distinctly frazzled every time Jesse hands him the notes the next day, and the younger man doesn't blame him. He's caught Rachel calling Schuester more than once ("Honestly, Mr. Schue, I don't know why you persist with that vocal warmup - it's clearly not stretching their range adequately enough to prepare them for a properly vigorous rehearsal.") and those phone calls usually last quite awhile.

* * *

><p>Rachel Berry has never failed at anything she's really set her mind to. Her energy is infectious and has the team firing on all cylinders at regionals. Santana and Brittany pair up on a lively rendition of 'Take Me or Leave Me' that sparks with chemistry, and the group follows up with a solid reprise of one of their favorite Journey numbers.<p>

They stand on stage waiting for the results - Rachel in between Jesse and Schuester - and Jesse can't resist casting derisive glances at Dustin Goolsby's over-sculpted hair. When the judges step onstage, Rachel slips her hand into his, squeezes.

It's no real surprise that New Directions earns the trip to Nationals in Chicago in May. Jesse can't help feeling a bit smug when Vocal Adrenaline can only manage third. They're lacking star power - of course they are. Something about a little girl running off to the United Nations.

He knows it's not how she pictured holding the trophy. But she smiles up at Schuester anyway. "Being a part of something special makes you special, right?"

The teacher's eyes are suspiciously red on the bus on the way home.

* * *

><p>He comes in with the rehearsal videotape one Thursday afternoon a week later and finds her sitting on the edge of her bed. She looks up from the papers she's holding to smile at him, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Hey."<p>

"Hello." He drops a kiss on her forehead and settles behind her on the bed.

It takes him a second to place the logo on the letterhead and just another moment to scan the all-important first paragraph of the letter. "Rachel!"

"I got in," she says, unnecessarily, her lips tugging up into a little grin.

"I can see that." He scans the letter again. "Jesus, Rachel. NYADA. I'm so proud of you. What did your dads say?"

"I didn't tell them yet."

He pulls back from the crushing hug he's enveloped her in. "Are you kidding me? When are they getting home? I can't wait to see their faces. We'll take you out." He knows he's gushing a little - he'll scoff at himself later - but NYADA is a big deal, and he's honestly confused why she's being so quiet.

She smiles finally, taking the letter back from him, tucking it neatly back into its envelope and propping it up in the center of her desk. "At least I got in. That's something."

"What do you mean 'at least?'" He doesn't like the way she's looking at him, and his heart gives this little lurch, like she's saying something important, here.

"I can't go to New York in the fall if I relapse again, Jesse," she says, tucking her legs underneath her as she settles back on the bed.

"You won't."

"I could."

"I'm pretty sure they have doctors in New York, too," he points out. "Maybe the best."

"It's my dream school, Jesse," she sighs. "But the fact remains that I'm not your typical high school senior anymore. I need some kind of a plan B. ... Not to mention the fact that i'm currently incapable of singing anything more stressful than 'happy birthday.'"

"It's going to get better," he insists. "You're going to finish this treatment, and get better, and win Nationals. You're destined for so much, Rachel. The big stage, your name in lights, star billing..." He's trying to paint the picture for her, because the look in her eyes is scaring him a little.

"Thank you," she whispers, leaning in to kiss him softly, "For believing in me." When she pulls back, she finally smiles at him - a real smile. "And what are you going to do while I do all that?"

He grins back at her. "I'll be right there with you. Clearly."

"What about next year? When I start college or ... whatever?"

"I don't know," he admits. "I'm certainly not going back to UCLA. I'd like to go to New York. With you. But I don't know that going back to school is for me. I messed up the first go-round, but some things about it did open my eyes. Maybe I'll audition for a few shows ... try my luck."

"That's a good plan." She nods.

"I'm glad you approve," he teases.

"It's a good plan, and I want you to go, with or without me."

He's thrown by the sudden shift in conversation, and in her tone. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Rachel, now you're being crazy." He sits up, runs a hand through his hair in anger.

She reaches out to catch his hand. "I'm not giving up. I promise. But I need to know you're not giving up on yourself because of me."

"We need to not be having this conversation right now, then."

"Jesse, I need you to promise me."

He shakes his head in denial, gripping her hand too hard. He's seen too many bad dramas. He knows what it means when they get to the point with promises. He wants to argue with her and drag her back from thinking this way. But "I can't," is all that comes out.

"You _can_," she insists. "Remember what you told me? It's an inevitability."

The way she's looking at him, he can feel something inside of him break. It starts with one tear running down his face, and she tenderly brushes it away with her thumb. It's more than he can stand. He winds up with his head buried in her lap.

He doesn't think he's cried since he was six.

He cannot stand the thought of doing this alone. 'Thanks' to his family situation, he's been independent his whole life - by necessity, if not exactly by choice, at first. He's used to it. It's safe. And now he's gotten a taste of so much more - of love, of a real family. He refuses to go back to what he was before - and the thought of that choice being taken out of his hands, yet again, is terrifying.

He can hear her gently humming something by Sondheim, and it breaks his heart a little bit more, because how can he even think about losing the one person who knows him this well?

When he has no more tears, he's bone tired. He slowly looks up at her. She's been stroking her hands through his hair this whole time, patiently. He thinks in this moment, she looks incredibly wise.

"I've been waiting for you to do that," she says, almost conversationally. "It took one of my dads just a week before he fell apart when he thought so one was looking. The other didn't cry til right after Nationals last year. But you're supposed to let it out. It's probably better for you."

"This isn't fair," he says, tugging on her hand to pull her down beside him on the bed. "I'm supposed to be taking care of you."

"We'll take care of each other," she says quietly. "That's what people do who are in love, Jesse."

"You shouldn't be wasting your energy."

"Then make me stop worrying. I need to know you won't give up on your dreams, Jesse. Promise me."

"Then promise me that you'll be there, too." He squeezes her hand hard. "What, you think I'm supposed to become a star without the one leading lady who's ever been worthy of sharing a stage with me? I'm not doing this alone."

She thinks about it for a moment, then smiles softly at him. "You'll never do it alone, Jesse. I promise. I'll always be looking out for you."

It's what she isn't saying. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"I know. But my dads told me never to make a promise I couldn't keep. And I can keep this one, one way or the other." She forces a little grin at him. "I mean, that's the worst case scenario. The best case scenario is, of course, we take Broadway by storm. They'll never stop us."

He hears the door click and voices downstairs. "My dads must be home," she says. "Want to come with me to show off my acceptance letter and listen to them panic about New York?"

He smiles and lets her pull him up off the bed, not protesting when she nudges him in the direction of her en-suite bathroom so he can wash his face. When he re-emerges, she reaches out to tangle her fingers with his.

"My dads love you too, you know," she says quietly. "You're never going to be alone again, Jesse."

He pulls her closer and kisses her hard, hoping she'll think it's just sentiment. Really, it's to reassure himself that she's still here - because even with her right there next to him, he feels like part of her is already leaving.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Happy Monday! This chapter is mostly a ball of fluff. After this, we go off the rails. You've been warned ... Also, nothing TOO explicit, but the end of this chapter is definitely on the "13" side of "PG-13." Hope you all enjoy - and thank you all so much for the kind reviews! They make my day :)

**Handprint On My Heart**

Chapter 5: Take My Hand

May-June 2012

She finally hits her breaking point in mid-May.

She's going through yet another round of chemo, as an outpatient, and she's on low-grade immunosuppressants this time, in an attempt to keep her body from fighting back against the treatments that are trying to save her life. She's actually feeling quite well. She's completed all of her coursework at home, has taken her exams with a visiting proctor and has passed with flying colors. For all intents and purposes, she's finished up senior year.

But there's a limit to what she's allowed to do. The immunosuppressants means she's supposed to stay in a state of relative isolation - hence the at-home exams. With plenty of caution and scrupulous cleanliness - read: constant hand-washing and carrying sanitizer to use on everything - it's safe for her to go about her normal routines at home, or hang out with a group of friends there. But to be around crowds or in a very public setting is considered too dangerous. It's exposing her system to too much, and to foreign influences. If she pushes herself beyond her limits, she could wind up in the hospital for an extended stay - or worse.

Meaning a trip to Chicago for Nationals at the end of May is out, and Dr. Maxwell really isn't sure about the safety of something like McKinley's prom and graduation ceremony next month, either.

She cries bitterly when she's exhausted from arguing with the doctor, not only from the disappointment of being denied these memories, but from realizing that she's gotten to the stage where she can't bargain with her body anymore. She can't pretend this isn't happening.

He wants to tell her that Nationals are not the end-all, be-all (hell, he certainly realized that himself, nearly too late, after being so blinded by it); that by playing it safe now, she's giving herself the opportunity to recover and to have countless performances in the future. But there will be time for that conversation later. Right now, it cuts too deep. So he just holds her and lets her cry, stroking her hair and humming softly to her. When she has no more tears left, she gently pushes him away and asks for a minute to get herself cleaned up.

He sits at the kitchen table with Hiram and Leroy. No one feels like talking. It's an hour before she comes downstairs, having obviously just run a brush through her hair and scrubbed her face. She greets them brightly, but the sparkle is missing from her eyes.

It's her dads who comes up with the idea, pulling him aside a few days later to enlist him while Rachel takes a phone call from Kurt. Everything is arranged in one meeting with Principal Figgins. The Berry men busy themselves with preparations - Jesse thinks it's good to see them moving around with a purpose again.

They give him his own to-do list, which mainly includes contacting Schuester and the rest of the New Directions. He takes care of everything at the final rehearsal before they head to Nationals. He is certainly not spending a weekend out of town at this point - but if the bitching he hears from Mercedes is any indicator, they're not going to forget their final rehearsal for about a month, so it should hold. Apparently he retained some of Shelby's slave-driver techniques quite well.

* * *

><p>He can tell it's going to be a good day when he opens the door of the Berry house on the selected Friday a few weeks later and Rachel runs down the stairs to greet him, launching herself from the bottom step into his arms. Glad she's feeling good today - because it's hit or miss lately - he twirls her around a little, which the drama queen in her appreciates. They talk about going for a drive, just because - it's her day off on the treatment cycle, and it's a nice day.<p>

"I just want to get my mind off things for awhile," she says. He has to hide a smile, because it's too perfect - both what's planned for today, and because he needs to get her out of the house for a bit anyway.

New Directions placed third at Nationals two weeks before. Rachel stayed on the phone with Schuester almost the whole day (until his battery died) to offer opinions, advice, and a wicked pep talk to the rest of the team via speakerphone. Her team performed very well. But they were missing that extra spark. Everyone knows exactly what it was - and Rachel refuses to talk about it, despite Kurt's assurances that she can't blame herself for something she can't control anyway. Still, it was a good year - and it probably bought the program relative safety from budget cuts for at least a few years. Rachel's legacy at McKinley is already more than assured.

He drives a leisurely lap around Lima, eats up some more minutes by making a show of swinging by the Hummell house, even though he knows Kurt's not home. They eventually head back to Rachel's.

"What are all the cars doing in the driveway?" she wonders aloud as they park on the street. "That's Finn's truck. What is going on?"

He smirks, leaning into his backseat to grab a bag he'd stashed back there earlier. "We're going to need you to put this on."

"This isn't some deviant sexual fantasy, is it Jesse?" She rummages in the bag, then gasps when she comes up with the motarboard. "What is this?"

By now her dads have come out of the house and are walking over to the passenger side of the car.

"You couldn't go to graduation, so we brought graduation to you," Hiram explains.

Sensing her dads probably want a minute with her, he squeezes her hand, then slips out of the car and heads into the house and down the stairs. He takes a seat next to Kurt and Blaine in the basement. Blaine is blushing and muttering something about things not going so well the last time the entire glee club was in this basement. Santana rolls her eyes and makes a suggestive comment about spin the bottle. Schuester and Figgins are giving them some serious side-eye, like they really shouldn't be hearing this.

Hiram and Leroy finally come downstairs, camera in hand. Leroy nods. Figgins clears his throat formally. "Rachel Berry?" he calls.

There are cheers and catcalls from the entire glee club as a beaming Rachel, clad in her cap and gown, basically bounces down the stairs and up onto that ridiculous little stage to take her diploma. Prim and proper, she puts out her hand to shake the principal's freshly scrubbed one. The middle-aged man blinks his eyes rapidly several times. Dense as he is, even Figgins has a big heart.

Drama queen that she is, Rachel makes a big production of turning her tassel, then tossing her cap to her dads before she hops down off the edge of the little platform.

"Not so fast, Rachel," Schuester says, rising from his seat. "I brought something with me. This award is usually presented at the graduation ceremony, but due to the circumstances, we thought we'd present it a little early this year. The faculty who run all the arts programs and extracurriculars annually present this award to the graduating senior who has made the biggest contribution to those programs during their four years at McKinley. This year's honoree, per unanimous vote, is out New Directions co-captain, Miss Rachel Berry."

She hugs her teacher for a long time after he hands her the certificate. Kurt is the first to jump up and join the group hug, followed closely by the rest of the team. Jesse loiters at the edges of the group, a small grin pulling at his face.

"Well, you'd better start getting ready," Mercedes says as the group starts to break up a little.

Rachel blinks. "For what?"

"For prom, silly," Quinn says.

For once in her life, Rachel Berry is rendered absolutely speechless, Jesse notes smugly. He barely gets a kiss on the cheek in before Kurt whisks her away, dragging her up the stairs to where he's stashed everything in her bedroom.

Leroy follows him outside so he can retrieve the bag of CDs Jesse stashed in his backseat earlier today. Jesse hesitates a second before getting back in the car. "Are you sure you don't need my help getting set up?"

"Positive," Leroy tells him firmly. "The other kids want to help with this one. Just go get ready. Besides, do you think Kurt is going to let you come anywhere close to seeing the dress?"

* * *

><p>There's one particularly awkward run-in with his mother and aunt, who are already nursing martinis at 6 p.m. and are wondering where he's going in a suit and tie on a Friday evening.<p>

"It's my girlfriend's prom night."

"A high school girl?" His aunt raises an eyebrow at his mother.

"The one he's been pining over for a few years now."

He bites down the flash of annoyance that they talk as though he's not even in the room. Really, he doesn't owe either one of them an explanation. As if he could even explain Rachel in the ten seconds he plans to still be standing here.

They don't get it. They never will. But - for the first time - he's really okay with that.

"This is what I want," he says simply, before turning on his heel and leaving the room quietly. He does allow himself to slam the front door on the way out, indulging himself in that little bit of dramatics.

After that, the drive across town doesn't seem to go quickly enough. But he eventually finds himself standing in the front hallway with Hiram and Leroy, making awkward small talk and feeling like every cliche in a bad teen movie about proms.

"Hi."

Her voice is behind him, so he turns to find Rachel hanging in the doorway in the light yellow dress Kurt picked out, smiling shyly, her eyes bright. All he can think is, _wow_. He smiles slowly. She's perfect.

He produces a box from the pocket of his jacket. "Kurt wouldn't let me see the dress, but he helped me with the color."

He helps her slide the band of the corsage with its riot of little pink flowers over her delicate wrist. As he does, their eyes meet and hold. And he really couldn't say if there's anything else in the room for a minute, til he hears a camera click. She jumps a little, caught up, too.

They stand for a few obligatory pictures, sneaking little glances at each other the whole time. Leroy's eyes are suspiciously wet, and he sees Hiram grab the other man's hand, give it a squeeze. The two men are leaving the house to the teens tonight and spending their own night at a nice hotel in Akron, dinner reservations included (courtesy of the Hummell-Hudsons; Carole had basically cried for an hour when Kurt filled her in on the prom night plan). They're certainly leaving Rachel in the company of plenty of watchful eyes, though - and Jesse has no doubt he'll answer at least a few worried text messages tonight.

He can already hear chatter in the backyard, so he smiles, offers her his arm even though they're only walking a few steps through the house. "Shall we?"

Rachel stops dead in her tracks at the back door, her hands going to ther mouth in shock. It's got to be the first time in her life she's ever been rendered speechless twice in one day.

Rachel's bedroom window doesn't face the backyard, and he knows no one would let her look out there today. Hiram and Leroy, with help from Tina and Mercedes, have put strands of Christmas lights up in the trees and along the fence, and streamers along the rail of the back porch. The effect is charming, not tacky. Puck loaned the speakers (Jesse really doesn't want to know where they came from or if they were legally procured), and Artie is fiddling with the CD deck.

"You guys..." Rachel cannot get a word out. There are tears in her eyes.

Jesse laughs when he notices Tina and Mike are already out on the 'dance floor' on the back lawn. "Someone beat us to it. Can't get shown up. Do me the honor?" He holds out a hand, and laughing through her tears, she takes it.

She has to sit down a lot in between songs, but she's happy and laughing the entire night. Jesse reluctantly lets her out of his grasp for a dance or two. Puck brought Neil Diamond's Greatest Hits and insists on stealing her away for all of those. She twirls around to old showtunes with Mercedes, and even Finn gets a dance in. There's plenty of singing going on (this is what happens when all your friends are in glee club), but the neighbors aren't complaining, thankfully - maybe they're really big Journey fans. Santana and Brittany seem a little tipsy, but nothing else too off-color is happening - although Jesse and Finn are watching Puck like a hawk to make sure that flask in his pocket doesn't wind up in the punch bowl.

She laughs uproariously as Blaine attempts to teach her to waltz. During which time, Quinn glides over and takes Jesse's arm for a dance.

"Grace Kelly," he smiles, remembering the last prom they went to. "Stunning as always. To what do I owe the honor?"

"I just wanted to tell you that you're a good guy, Jesse St. James," she says quietly.

He glances over at Rachel, Blaine and Kurt. "She makes me a good guy."

A slower song comes on the radio a few moments later, and he's happy to relinquish a smiling Quinn when Finn cuts in on him. He saunters over to steal Rachel back from Blaine, tucking her into his arm and pulling her underneath the tree into a private little corner. She leans her head on his shoulder, content to let him lead as he twirls them around in the grass. He sings the familiar words of the old classic softly into her hair.

_Wise men say only fools rush in,_  
><em>But I can't help falling in love with you.<em>  
><em>Shall I stay - would it be a sin<em>  
><em>If I can't help falling in love with you.<em>

It surprises him when she takes the cue without warning, picking up the next verse softly.

_Like a river flows surely to the sea,_  
><em>Darling so it goes - some things are meant to be.<em>  
><em>Take my hand, take my whole life too -<em>  
><em>For I can't help falling in love with you.<em>

He holds her a little closer - and feels her doing the same - and closes his eyes, forgetting about everything but this moment as they finish out the song together.

_Like a river flows surely to the sea,_  
><em>Darling so it goes - some things are meant to be.<em>  
><em>Take my hand, take my whole life too -<em>  
><em>For I can't help falling in love with you.<em>

_I can't help falling in love with you._

* * *

><p>She's obviously tired, but still in high spirits by the time the last glee clubber pulls out of the driveway later that night. Kurt and Blaine promised to be by tomorrow morning to help clean up the backyard, along with Finn, if they get him out of bed before noon. For now, they wander back through the house, flop down on the couch. Rachel has long ago discarded her shoes and sighs happily, pressing herself against his side.<p>

It starts with just a few chaste kisses as they sit on the couch and whisper to each other. But then she's got his tie off and her hands propped against his chest, and he's pulling the pins out of the updo Kurt so carefully crafted and is tousling her hair. He pulls back and hesitates.

"I won't break, Jesse," she whispers against his mouth.

Somehow he drags her into his arms and carries her up the stairs, stumbling over his feet a little because she's doing _that thing_ to his neck with her mouth. He deposits her on top of the covers on her bed and she refuses to let go, dragging him down in a tangle of limbs and mouths.

She whimpers softly and he immediately pulls back, assuming she's in pain of some kind. But when he looks down at her, her face is flushed with desire, and she's busily working at the buttons of his dress shirt. He can almost hear his self-control snap audibly.

Time seems to speed up, everything a blur of heat and feel, even as he tries to slow it down, trying to map every inch of her skin, sear it into his memory. Time finally does stop when she's clutching him, pulling him to her, shuddering beneath him as he comes undone in her arms.

When it's over, they're sprawled, spent, across her bed, hands clasped between them as they stare up at the ceiling and just try to breathe.

She's the first to recover. "So _that's_ what all the fuss is about," she finally says wonderingly, rolling over to prop her chin on his chest, regarding him with wide eyes. Through half-lidded eyes, he smirks at her, perfectly content to stay right where he is.

She has other plans. "Let's do it again," she decides, crawling on top of him.

He groans in mock protest. At least mostly mock. Really, he might need a few minutes. "You're going to be the death of me, woman."

She arches an eyebrow at him and grins - and really, she must be spending too much time around him, because that smirk looks _way_ too familiar. "I guess you're just going to have to lie back and take it then, St. James."

He sighs in mock surrender. "By all means, then."


	6. Chapter 6

**Handprint On My Heart**

Chapter 6: Is It Me You're Looking For?

July 2012

It's the law of the universe that just when you thing things are going well, they need to come crashing back down in spectacular fashion.

That's what he's thinking as he shatters the speed limit on his way to the hospital, having just gotten the call from Leroy that they're on their way to the ER.

_One step forward, two steps back._

She was feeling so good after the prom and graduation - just a few weeks prior, _god damn it_ - she was scheduled for another battery of tests after her latest round of chemo was over, to see if they'd _finally_ beaten this thing. She'd appeared on the upswing. But then his phone rang at 1 a.m.

_"It's like she's having a hard time breathing, Jesse. She was trying to fall asleep and struggling. I guess it was going on for a couple of hours before she finally came and got us up. We're not taking any chances. We're getting in the car now, okay? Meet us there if you can."_

Somehow, he doesn't wrap the car around a tree, and he's taking the stairs to the fifth floor of Lima General two at a time, too impatient to wait for the elevator.

Hiram meets him outside Rachel's room, catching him by the shoulders before he can run into the room full tilt. "Easy, son. Slow down a little."

"What's happening to her?" he bursts out.

"We don't know yet. They took some blood - they're running all the tests now - and they have her scheduled for a CT in the morning. She's stable for now, Jesse. They've got her on oxygen and painkillers. She's sleeping now."

"Not anymore," Leroy interjects, stepping out of the room. He nods at Jesse. "She heard you were here."

The room is dim, with a couple of lights blinking on some monitor in the corner. He perches carefully on the side of the bed, trying to avoid the IV line and the oxygen line that's now taped on her face.

"Hi," she mumbles. Her smile is a little loopy - he guesses it's the painkillers. "Leading man."

"Drama queen," he instinctively teases back, although his voice is gentle. "Couldn't think of a better way to get me into your bed at night?"

She smiles sleepily, her eyes already dropping closed again. "Stay?"

"I'm here," he assures her, settling into the chair by the bed, not letting go of her hand. "I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

><p>He doesn't know if it's the fear, or the lack of sleep, but he has the distinct impression the room is spinning the next morning. Or maybe it's the look on Dr. Maxwell's face as they all sit in the little room.<p>

"I'm sorry," is the first thing the doctor says.

The room is definitely spinning, and he can't breathe right, and he can't get his mind to focus long enough to make out complete sentences. Just little snatches of words here and there. "Another mass - near site of original ... aggressive and resistant ... explains why she's having trouble breathing ... compressing this ventricle ... removal's too dangerous ... additionally, markers spreading to marrow ... no match yet ... out of medical options, short of a miracle ... "

There's a roaring in his ears, leaving the doctor's words hard to make out. Through hazy vision, he can see Leroy's arm tightly around Rachel's shoulders, his other hand reaching for his partner's. Hiram reaches for Jesse's hand on his other side. The older man's grip is bone-crushing, and it brings him back to consciousness enough to hear Rachel meekly asking questions - "How long?" and "Will it hurt?"

Somehow, she quietly slips away from the group after they're back out in the hallway. It doesn't take him long to find her. She's in the patient rec room, where they spent so many hours with Kurt and Blaine last summer. She's sitting on the piano bench, running her hand over the keys aimlessly.

He wants to say something that will make her smile. Something that will erase everything that just happened. But really, there's nothing he can think of. Because he can't erase it, he can't fix this. He's not a hero. He's just some kid who's in way the hell over his head. So he sits next to her on the bench, quietly.

"I wanted to learn how to play," she says quietly, without looking at him, dragging her fingers back over the keys again. "I don't know how ..."

He takes her hands, stilling her aimless motion. They're shaking.

"I'm scared this time, Jesse," she says. "I'm really scared."

"I know," is all he can say.

"Sing me something," she says quietly, desperately. "Sing me anything."

He can't deny her anything, but he also can't bear to not be touching her for even a moment - not now that there's a clock ticking down. So somehow he maneuvers her in front of him on the piano bench so he can still reach the keys.

When he plays the opening notes to 'Hello' - the first thing that comes to mind, because he's too blank to think of anything else - she lets out a little sob, tucking her head against his chest. He finds his voice can't make it through the whole song, so when he stumbles, when his voice breaks for the first time in his life, he just hums along, or whispers the words against her hair. She doesn't mention it, just holding on tightly.

Neither one of them says anything after, the last piano notes just fading out in the room.

"I love you," is what he finally says - because there's nothing else he can say.

"I love you, too," she whispers back. She shakily sits up, looks at him for the first time, then looks around the room. "Are my dads looking for us?"

"Probably."

"Okay. Then let's go." She breathes in, looking out the window. "Take me home, Jesse."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** So FREAKING blown away by all the reviews on this. Thank you so, so much, every single one of you. You make it all worth it!

There's just one more chapter after this - and it's actually already mostly written, so I promise not to leave you hanging too long.

**Handprint On My Heart**

Chapter 7: For Good

July-August 2012

Rachel Berry is the strongest person he knows, and she has always known exactly what she wants.

Short of a medical miracle happening at the last minute - and she knows what the odds are and how unlikely that is - she understands what's happening to her. And she doesn't want it to happen in some sterile, unfamiliar room in the hospital. So they take her home, with a healthy dose of morphine, an oxygen line for when she needs it, and a nurse who stops by daily.

Jesse is monumentally grateful that also on the list of 'things she wants' in these days is him.

He's never been one for a lot of self-reflection. He's always known who and what he is, and has never felt the need to analyze much beyond that. But during yet another sleepless night, he finds himself examining his feelings with the strange sense that he's a stranger looking in on himself.

He expected he'd be sad. Or scared. And he is all of that, and then some. But mostly, he's angry. He knows that she isn't the first patient to be in a position like this. There isn't a cure for cancer. Time runs out on people who are waiting for transplants every day. And then there is the fact that surgery to remove the growth in her chest would likely kill her outright. He knows the science.

But _still_.

This is Rachel Berry - with her gold star stickers and larger-than-life personality and pink bedroom and animal sweaters and beautiful voice and gentle brown eyes. It seems like the laws of the universe shouldn't apply to _her_.

So yeah, he's angry. Because she is the most unique person that he knows, and shouldn't someone like that deserve better than becoming a statistic before she's even eighteen?

And then he realizes that the most unique thing he's ever seen from her is how she's handling this. Because she's not crying, or raging at the world, or doing anything that's going to eat up her time without changing the final outcome. She's trying to fill her days with who and what she loves, and to make the most of it.

So, he decides, he's just going to love her. If she can be brave enough to face this, then he's going to be brave, too - because she deserves nothing less. He's going to ignore that his heart is breaking, and be brave enough to give her every bit of it he can - even though he suspects she'll take it with her and he'll never get it back. He'll worry about picking up the pieces after.

* * *

><p>There's a pretty steady stream of people over to the house to visit, which he guesses is to be expected.<p>

Along with the other kids from New Directions, Kurt and Blaine are basically a constant presence, of course. Carole and Burt come over a lot with them, and he thinks the Berry men must appreciate at least having other adults to talk to, like they do when Schuester stops by.

The Hummell-Hudsons apparently own just about every board game known to man, and most of them make an appearance that summer. They sit in her room, or even in the backyard when the weather is nice. Sometimes it feels like no time at all has passed since last summer - even though, of course, everything is different. It's a competitive outlet, anyway. There's one epic round of Monopoly that last four days - literally, four days - before Leroy finally wins - leaving all the teens, plus his husband, totally indignant.

He picked up a few interesting skills at UCLA and, one week, decides to teach everyone how to play poker. Rachel catches on quickly - maybe because she has such a good showface. He nearly falls over in shock when she arches one eyebrow and, through a fit of coughing, suggests a round of strip poker. He's grateful that her fathers hadn't joined them for that particular game. Kurt, of course, repeats the story, and Santana comes over the next afternoon for the sole purpose of high-fiving Rachel.

* * *

><p>Some days they lie together on the bed, hands linked between them, and he sings to her. Broadway, of course, but also cheesy ballads, pop, rock, whatever comes to mind, really.<p>

When she's feeling well enough, she joins in - it always leaves her a little out of breath, but she's always smiling.

Some days they are quiet and he just holds her, begging his mind to commit the sound of her heartbeat to memory. When she dozes off - she gets tired easily now - he's afraid to follow her down into sleep. He just watches her breathe.

He catches her watching him a lot, too, as though she's trying to memorize his face - to take it with her for whatever comes next.

* * *

><p>Shelby leaves Beth with a sitter and comes to Ohio the first weekend in August - after clearing it with Rachel and her dads, of course. Jesse winds up spending half of the weekend sitting around the kitchen table engaging in inane small talk with Hiram and Leroy. They're all feeling a little protective of Rachel, considering her history with her birth mother - but they also want to give her space, since this is something she wants. All of them make frequent excuses to leave the room and not-so-inconspicuously peek in on Rachel and Shelby, who are in the midst of what can only be described as the Barbra Streisand marathon to end all marathons. It's something they have in common.<p>

When she leaves on Sunday night, Shelby hugs him for a long moment on the front porch. "I am prouder of you than any of my other students," is what she tells him.

He scoffs a little - because Giselle is dancing with the Rockettes and Chris is and understudy somewhere on the West End, and here he is, former lead of Vocal Adrenaline and a UCLA dropout. Not exactly one for the alumni hall of fame.

She seems to know exactly where his mind went - it's damn uncanny, because she always could do that when she was his teacher, and Rachel can do the same thing. Maybe it's genetic.

"You are doing something so much more important than any of them, Jesse. ... Thank you for taking care of her."

He watches until her sedan is out of sight, then makes his way back upstairs. Rachel is sitting on the edge of her bed, seemingly unperturbed. She smiles when he sits next to her, slides an arm around her shoulders.

"Are you okay?" he hesitantly asks her a few moments later.

"Yes," she says, so firmly that he can only believe her. "It was good, to see her. I'm grateful to her. It was never going to be a typical mother-daughter relationship. I made my peace with that a long time ago. But it ... it makes me appreciate my dads so much more. And I never would have gotten to know you without her."

When she leans over to press a kiss to his cheek, how is he supposed to argue with that?

* * *

><p>The hardest thing might be when Kurt leaves for FIT in mid-August. He'd actually suggested deferring - just for a semester or two, because he doesn't want to leave Lima, not yet. Not until ...<p>

Rachel, of course, adamantly refuses to let Kurt do such a thing, and they have more than one argument over it. Jesse, Blaine, Finn and Quinn sit downstairs, trying to pretend they can't hear the two of them shouting at each other upstairs.

_("Your life is not allowed to stop, too," they can all clearly hear her yelling. "No way."_

_"She's so goddamn worried about taking care of all of us," Kurt growls when he finally stomps downstairs.)_

The day Kurt and Blaine finally do leave for New York - of course Rachel got her way - Blaine says goodbye first, then sits on the front step with Jesse in silence. It's a full hour before Kurt emerges from the house, his face red, and runs to get into the car without a word to either of them. Blaine stands up, awkwardly shakes Jesse's hand, and then rushes after his boyfriend to comfort him.

It's one of the few times since all of this happened that Rachel does cry. They're curled on the couch in the darkened den watching 'The Way We Were,' and he feels her breath hitch as she hums along with the title number. He can feel her tears against his shoulder, so he tightens his arms around her.

"I'm going to miss him," she says brokenly. "And I'm going to miss Blaine. I'll miss my dads. I'll miss you..."

"We all love you so much, you know," he grits out, pressing his face into her hair to keep from crying himself while he tries to comfort her.

What he can't say is, there's no way she misses them as much as they're going to miss her.

* * *

><p>It's a beautiful day in late August - the last of summer.<p>

He's downstairs nursing a cup of coffee and reflecting on just how strange his life has gotten while her fathers are upstairs with her. She's been sleeping most of the morning - it's been that way most of this week, actually - but is now awake and talking with her dads.

He hasn't left for close to two weeks, preferring instead to shower in her dads' bathroom and wear borrowed clothing rather than leaving to re-stock. He catches snatches of sleep in the chair beside her bed, or on the couch. Really, the thought of setting foot outside the door of her house right now fills him with panic - as it has each day in the nine weeks since that fateful meeting with Dr. Maxwell.

"Jesse."

Hiram's voice brings him out of his reverie and he looks up at the older man, who looks a little lost, but then smiles weakly at him and pats him on the shoulder. "She wants you." Jesse immediately rises, and as he leaves the room, he dimly wonders where Leroy is.

"Hey," he says as he steps into Rachel's bedroom.

She turns her head to him with effort, seemingly unable to lift it off the pillow. Her face is pale, too pale, and she smiles weakly. Her eyes are still bright. "Hey."

He comes closer, sits on the edge of the bed. When he does, he notices she's shivering. "You're cold."

"A little," she admits.

He reaches for the blanket folded at the foot of the bed and drapes it around her. As he's tucking it in, she looks up at him. "You remember what you promised me?"

He doesn't want to have this conversation. "Yes."

"Say it, Jesse. Tell me you promise."

Reluctantly, "I promise."

"Like you mean it," she insists, struggling to prop her head up so she can glare at him properly. Even that seems to take a lot out of her. "Promise me you'll be a star, Jesse St. James."

"I promise," he says, finally meeting her eyes this time. "And if you don't believe me, I will thank you in every awards speech for the rest of my life."

"Good." She smiles wanly. "Otherwise I'd have to haunt you."

He smiles fondly, despite the way it feels like his heart is twisting in his chest. "You'd better haunt me."

She closes her eyes, as if summoning some deep reserve of strength, and he understands why when she beings to sing, in barely a whisper.

_I'm limited - just look at me. _

_I'm limited. _

_And look at you, you can do all I never could. _

_So now it's up to you - for both of us. _

_Now it's up to you. _

She has to pause for a breath almost after each line - and her voice is barely a whisper, but still so sweet. She winces a little, trying to suck in a breath.

"You shouldn't be doing this," he murmurs, feeling that familiar burn in the back of his throat. The depth of this song's meaning is not lost on him.

"No, I like this," she tells him. She continues on gamely.

_I've heard it said - that people come into our lives for a reason,_

_Bringing something we must learn_

_And we are led to those who help us most to grow - if we let them _

_And we help them in return. _

_Well I don't know if I believe that's true - _

_But I know I'm who I am today because I knew you. _

_Like a comet pulled from orbit as it passes a sun, _

_Like a stream that meets a boulder halfway through the wood, _

_Who can say if I've been changed for the better? _

_But because I knew you, I have been changed for good. _

He knows he has tears running down his face. She smiles tenderly at him, even though she's paler than she was before and breathing heavily. "Your turn," she whispers.

He frames her face with his hands so he can stroke her cheeks with his thumbs, commit to memory her bright eyes and the way she is smiling at him as he sings to her, softly.

_It well may be that we will never meet again in this lifetime, _

_So let me say before we part:_

_So much of me is made of what I learned from you. _

_You'll be with me, like a handprint on my heart. _

_And now whatever way our stories end, _

_I know you have rewritten mine by being my friend. _

He cannot resist breaking from the song to drop a lingering kiss on her mouth. "You really are my best friend, Rachel."

She smiles softly, but still gives him an impatient poke in the stomach. "Finish the song." He smiles and obeys.

_Like a ship blown from its mooring by a wind off the sea, _

_Like a seed dropped by a skybird in a distant wood, _

_Who can say if I've been changed for the better?_

_But because I knew you, I have been changed for good. _

She breaks into another little fit of coughing, and he eases her upright so she can take a sip from the glass of water next to the bed. As he lowers he back onto her pillow, he frowns, smoothing the hair back off her forehead. "Take it easy."

"No," she tells him, tugging on his hand. "I want to sing with you."

He lifts his eyebrows. "Rachel -"

She cuts him off stubbornly, beginning softly. _"Like a comet pulled from orbit as it passes the sun -" _

He gives in, joining his voice to hers. _"Like a ship blown from its mooring by a wind off the sea -" _

_Like a stream that meets a boulder halfway through the wood - _

_ Like a seed dropped by a bird in the wood - _

_Who can say if I've been changed for the better? _

_I do believe I have been changed for the better. _

_And because I knew you - I have been changed for good. _

She's been playing with his curls absently but now drops her hand to the bed, like it's too heavy to hold up any more. She yawns widely, fighting to keep her eyes open.

"You need to rest," he immediately says quietly, moving to pull the blanket more tightly around her.

She nods, in slow motion. "Take a nap with me?"

He hesitates, glancing at the IV pole with the morphine drip snaking under the covers. She blinks at him stubbornly, and he sees her old self in those eyes - the one he can deny nothing. "Please?"

He acquiesces, crawling under the covers beside her and sliding his arms around her. She smiles drowsily as he gently pulls her to him.

"I love you, Jesse," she whispers sleepily, her head over his heart.

"I love you too," he whispers back, holding her tightly. "So very much. For always." She sighs a little, snuggling closer.

He doesn't want to go to sleep. Really, he doesn't. But it _has_ been a long several weeks, and for once, it's hard to escape how nice this feels - lying curled together under the blanket, the late afternoon sun slanting in through the window. He closes his eyes. Something tells him it's okay.

Dimly, he notes that Rachel, warm in his arms, is very, very still.


	8. Epilogue

**Handprint On My Heart**

Epilogue: Not Gone

June 2018

He can't believe it when they actually call his name. His director, after hugging him firmly and clapping him on the back, has to literally shove him out of the row of seats and into the aisle. He starts to head the wrong way, til Hiram yells at him and he turns around and rushes back in the general direction of the stage. Where he proceeds to completely ramble through thanking all the usuals - the director, the producer, the rest of the cast. Seriously, rambling, because he cannot process this.

He thinks Kurt and Blaine, watching this at home (his cell phone keeps vibrating against his leg) must be getting a great kick out of this.

He finally takes a deep breath and attempts to rein in his thoughts. This last one is the important part, and he doesn't want to screw it up.

"And last, but most certainly not least, I have to thank the person who believed that this day was an inevitability more strongly than anyone. I know that, if she had things her own way, she would be smiling from the audience right now - after winning her own Tony, of course. As it is, I know she's looking out for me, always."

He swallows hard, his eyes going to the audience, where Rachel's fathers are clutching one another's hands. "Rachel Berry, this is for you. Thank you."

* * *

><p>He gets off at his subway stop, having just returned from escorting Hiram and Leroy back to their hotel. He doesn't know where Rachel got her sense of direction from. He hadn't trusted the two men alone on public transportation for a moment.<p>

He walks home slowly, knowing it is one of those nights.

* * *

><p>He remembers the day he found the letter.<p>

There was a box of CDs that apparently she'd told her dads she wanted him to have. For the entire first month, he was raw with grief - and, quite frankly, in a good bit of denial. He'd avoided opening the box until one Tuesday evening - he was a little drunk, and he found himself desperately wanting to be close to her, to remember the things they used to love together. The 'Into The Woods' cast recording was at the top of the box - perfect, he thought.

He actually jumped a little when he opened the case and the neatly-folded sheet of paper fluttered out. He hesitated, staring at it on his carpet for a moment, then picked it up, unfolded i.t

_Jesse,_

_I knew you'd go for the Sondheim first. Call me crazy, but I did._

_As prepared as I thought I was, it still feels strange to be writing this letter to you. I always knew something like this could happen - I've been sick for more than two years, so I've had time to adjust to the idea. And I expected to feel regret, if it ever happened like this._

_But really, there's nothing to regret - because I got seventeen and a half years filled with incredible memories. Gosh, I got more in the last year than most people get in a lifetime._

_I got to sing on a real Broadway stage in New York City (yes, Kurt and I may have engaged in a felony). I got to sing 'Don't Cry For Me Argentina' in front of a packed crowd and get a standing ovation - remember when you promised me that would happen someday? I got to know what it felt like to have real friends. I got to spend time with my dads. I got to graduate from high school - with honors, no less. I got to know that I made a difference - maybe I didn't win Nationals with the glee club, but I know we helped ensure that the program won't get cut, and that Mr. Schue will have the chance to teach other kids who need it, who have big dreams, too. I got to get into my dream college, to know I could accomplish that._

_Most of all, I got a second chance with you. You told me once that you admired my capacity to forgive. I could say the same thing about you - because we both know that I made mistakes, too, especially when you came back from California last year. You're a better person than even you know, Jesse. You loved me the way I used to hope, when I was a little girl, that everyone would be loved once in their life. At a time when I was wondering why things happen, you restored a little of my faith in the universe._

_Thank you for loving me. Thank you for being my best friend, and my hero. I am the luckiest._

_It's impossible to put everything I feel for you on this one piece of paper. But I know you feel the same. And maybe that's enough. _

_Don't ever forget what you promised me. Don't ever forget to be the Jesse St. James I fell in love with. Live big. Be that star. I know you'll make me proud._

_And remember - you are never alone. Please keep an eye on my dads for me. They're going to need you, and you need them._

_I'll be keeping an eye on you, too. I promised, too - remember?_

_I love you. I love you. I love you._

_-Rachel_

She'd signed it with a gold star sticker next to her name.

He let himself cry that night, for a long time, telling himself that he would start keeping his promise the next day.

He knew he wasn't supposed to make drastic, life-altering decisions while grieving. But he found himself on the Craigslist apartment listings the next morning. And a week later, he was haphazardly putting things in cardboard boxes. Usually, he'd be more organized, but he was intent on getting the hell out of Ohio as quickly as possible.

"You're moving out?" his mother asked in confusion when she passed by the open door.

He nodded in the affirmative.

"Are you going back to school?"

Distantly - because he didn't have the energy to get into it with her - he wondered how this woman could be such a stranger. It just went to show, he guessed, that sometimes your real family wasn't the one that raised you. "I'm going to New York."

"Is your girlfriend going with you?"

Jesse considered that one for a second.

"Yeah, I think she is."

He didn't let the door slam on his way out.

* * *

><p>The walls in his first city apartment were way too thin - he spent more than one night wondering what the hell was going on down the hall, then deciding he really didn't want to know.<p>

He read her letter every night for that first year. He had it memorized within a week, of course - he just wanted to picture her, pen in hand, carefully scripting this - because she cared. Mostly, he needed to remember her making him promise - because he wouldn't get by without that.

He waited tables for a year. Taught some voice lessons. Dropped tapes and resumes off everywhere, went to audition after audition, until he was so tired and dizzy he could barely think straight. Til one day, he got the phone call.

"I think you might be what we're looking for."

* * *

><p>He's a little amazed to find that, just as she'd promised, he wasn't alone. That she's left him with a family, far-flung and unconventional as it may be.<p>

There are weekly phone calls from her dads - which are awkward at first, because they're all so obviously trying to avoid all mention of Rachel. It's like getting to know them all over again. But slowly, it gets easier.

There are, of course, frequent visits from Kurt and Blaine, who moved into an apartment off-campus not all that far from him during their sophomore year.

Sometimes he comes back from rehearsal and there's a letter from Quinn in his mailbox. Once - she must have written during a weekend visit - there's even a note from Finn enclosed. There are quite a few things misspelled, and several references to football plays that might as well be a foreign language.

It makes Jesse laugh. He thinks that Rachel, keeping an eye on all of this, must be getting a great kick out of it as well.

That's when he knows she isn't really gone.

* * *

><p>He misses her. It goes without saying. Sometimes, when the little things happen, he finds himself imagining what she would do if she was beside him, living the life they had always imagined. When he's driving to New York with the windows down and playing music on full blast to drown out his thoughts. When he pushes open the door of that first apartment and sees the empty space. When he's hopelessly lost on the subway his first week in the city. When he hears a new piece of music. When he's trying to figure out what the hell to send her dads for Hannukah.<p>

It's when he's happiest that he misses her the most.

When he gets the phone call for his first call-back. When he sees his name on a marquee on Broadway for the first time. Opening night. Walking home tonight after the Tonys.

She was the love of his life - and his best friend. She's the person he wanted to share all of that with. Walking home after the biggest accomplishment of his life, happy, on a high ... and pushing open the door to find himself alone in his apartment. There aren't quite words for the jumble of emotions.

This is what he does on these nights, then.

He puts on one of her favorite soundtracks, turning the volume to loud. He sits on the fire escape, looking out over the city they had wanted to call home together.

He finds her smile in each flash of the lights, feels her touch in the wind, or rain, or (God forbid) snow. He thinks he can hear her laugh over the honking of all the cabs.

He feels her every time he thinks about giving up.

She told him all the time - in the face of everything - how lucky she was. Maybe, just maybe, he got lucky, too.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:** And...that's it. Please don't hate me too much :X About the ending...I sort of wanted this to be a Jesse story, as much as a Jesse-and-Rachel story. I love the boy, but that is one flawed individual. I don't think it's all his fault. I think people have had a tendency to let him down. I wanted to put him through hell, have him learn some things from Rachel, and have him come out of it in an emotionally OK place, and with that support system. _

_Thanks again for everyone's support with this story 3 It means so so much! _


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